


Dad Skills.

by springburn



Series: The Thick of It mini-fics [33]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fatherhood, Humour, Love, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:37:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is ill. So Malcolm takes charge.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dad Skills.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a great prompt from 
> 
> Coley48....... (Thank you) 
> 
> "Any way to do one child I see Grace as a miniature version of Malcolm and how he tries to deal with her
> 
> Another thought you have focused on a sick Malcolm what about a sick a serious one but Sam how do you see Malcom deal with that with the children especially as they would have their own emotional needs  
> Nothing FATAL just a development another aspect of Malcolm's growth as a character"
> 
> So this is my interpretation of the prompt. I've written Jamie as being a smaller version of Malcolm in previous pieces, so I've stuck with that.  
> But it's a chance to show a bit of Malcolm's character as a Dad.  
> I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that Malc would be a great dad and be natural with children. He wouldn't talk down to them or be dictatorial.

DAD SKILLS.

"James Alexander Tucker, sit your bottom down on that seat and do as you are told!"  
Malcolm tried to make himself look as stern as possible.  
"Why?" His eldest son, replied, defiant.  
"Because I'm making breakfast, and Robbie and Grace are here, being good, and we're all going to eat together."  
"I'm not hungry."  
"Well, you will be hungry, when we all go to the park, and you've got an empty tummy and everyone else is lovely and full, and has lots of energy.....and you are all tired and floppy because you are starving!"  
"Okay."  
The youngster slid himself resignedly onto a seat next to his brother and sister. "What are we having?"  
"Porridge. I'm making Dad Porridge.....it's special."  
"But I hate porridge! Mummy says I don't have to eat it, I have eggs instead."  
"Well, today you're eating porridge, because I'm making it, and because no Scotsman worth his salt dislikes porridge!"  
His son grimaced.  
"I'm not a Scotsman.......I'm English."  
"You are half a Scotsman.....that's near enough!" Malcolm glared at Jamie, in mock anger.  
"I'm a Scotsman. I love porridge." Robbie piped up, waving his spoon in anticipation.  
"See! Your brother is a true Caledonian......so are you!" Malcolm began to dish the oaty mass onto their plates.  
"Am I a Scotsman?" His daughter chimed in, a beaming smile on her face.  
"No, you are a Scots woman......well, half a one anyway."  
"I want to be a Scots MAN." She answered, pouting.  
Malcolm sighed.  
"Okay, you can be whatever you want. Now eat up, because it's getting cold."  
"You don't make it like Mummy, I like her's better." Jamie moaned.  
"Well, tough. Mummy's feeling poorly and she's staying in bed, so.....you've got special Dad porridge, then we're going to the park, so mummy can sleep in peace and quiet."  
Malcolm looked fondly at his little row of offspring as they tucked in, without further comment.  
Two dark little heads, his boys, peas in a pod. Jamie, the eldest, so like him as a youngster. Malcolm had a black and white snap of himself at the same age, in Glasgow, in the street outside the tenement house where he grew up, and it could be Jamie.  
Like him in personality too, always alert, always questioning, 'why?' was his favourite mantra, bright as a button.  
Robbie, quieter, more easy going, no less bright, but more laid back, more like his wife in temperament.  
Then Grace, on the end, so different from her brothers. A cloud of blonde curls. No blonde in the Cassidy family, but his mother had been fair, so maybe it skipped a generation. She was the thinker, the one who everyone thought wasn't paying attention, then she'd come out with a pearl of wisdom, and surprise everyone.  
Loved books.  
She knew all the stories she'd been read by heart, was almost reading herself, not yet three......  
"Right......come on you lot! If you're done, coats and boots and OFF WE GO!!"  
They clattered off down the hallway, chattering excitedly, as Malcolm, nipped upstairs.

"You alright Darl?" He sat down on the edge of the bed, and leaned over, to kiss his wife.  
"Mmmm?" She muttered sleepily.  
"I'm taking the sprogs to the park, let you get some peace! Anything I can bring you before we disappear? Drink or tablets or anything?"  
"No thanks sweetie, I took two Nurofen a hour ago, and I've got water here. I'm good. For a while at least."  
"Okay, if you're sure. I put the washing that was in the basket in the machine. Leave it be. I'll sort it when we get back. Just lie there, and rest okay?"  
"Thanks Malcolm. Love you."  
She snuggled herself back down.  
"Love you too, ill person!!"  
"DAAADDDDYY!!"  
"Oh.....that's me! Gotta go! See you when we get back. Don't do anything....okay.....just leave everything. I'll sort the kids tea and stuff, they'll be fine."  
Sam huffed a grateful reply and closed her eyes.

"Okay! Are we ready?.....Grace, you've got your boots on the wrong feet, swap them over!"  
"Daddy, can I take my scooter?"  
"If you want, providing you don't go swanning off ahead, and wait for us when we cross the road." Jamie gleefully ran off to fetch it.  
"Is Elsa coming to the park with us too?"  
Grace was clutching her favourite doll of the moment under one arm.  
"Take Daddy's advice Grace, and leave her shoes at home, if they fall off, you'll lose them....then you'll be upset.....okay?"  
"Okay!"  
"Robbie.....are you taking anything to the park?"  
"My Iron Man back pack, with my survival kit inside!" His younger son was bouncing.  
"Survival kit?"  
"Yep. A Tracker bar, an apple and a drink. Brown bear and my blanket."  
Malcolm chuckled to himself.  
"I see. Alright then. Come on......lets go!"

oOo

The day was bright and sunny. Although there was an Autumn chill in the air.  
Not that the children noticed.  
Jamie and Robbie went ahead, one walking purposefully, the other on the scooter, propelling himself forwards.  
Grace held Malcolm's hand, her little fingers swamped inside his own. She trotted happily, keeping up.  
The park was busy. Dog walkers, joggers, other parents with their children.  
"Kids! Stay close okay. Jamie, don't you go too far on that thing. I want to be able to see you......right?"  
"Okay Dad!" He yelled back.  
An enclosed play area, with cushioned matting underneath each piece of apparatus, was their favourite place.  
Swings, a slide, a roundabout, riders on springs. Logs to balance across and a climbing frame, with ropes and chains, a bridge and a wooden house at one end.  
There was a sandpit too, and a small shallow paddling pool, for sailing boats or just for splashing through in wellies.  
Child heaven.  
Malcolm was not the parent who sat themselves down on a bench and told the kids to go off and play.  
Malcolm was the Dad who, pushed them on the swings,  
"Higher Daddy higher!".....  
......stood at the base of the slide to catch and swing them round as they came flying down, held their hands over the rickety rope bridge, climbed on it himself, and feigned being stuck so they would come and rescue him, sploshed straight through the water with a shout of Geronimo! Making the other children laugh.  
Dad skills.  
After an hour or more, he had them sitting around a table in the little cafe, which was next to the old bandstand in the centre.  
Drinks and sandwiches in front of them.  
"Give us a taste of the strawberry flavour then!"  
"No, Daddy, it's my milkshake....you'll drink it all."  
"I only want a sip.....I've got a cup of coffee coming, but I want to try your strawberry."  
"Oh, go on then!" Jamie slid his drink across the table.  
Malcolm took a slurp.......  
"Mmmmmm! Nice! There you go." He pushed it back.  
"Try mine now!" Robbie offered.  
"You've got banana.....I like strawberry better."  
"Grace has banana too......we like banana best, don't we sis?"  
His daughter, who had milkshake down her front, on her face and in her hair, nodded emphatically.  
Malcolm leaned across with a wet-wipe.  
"How come you are wearing your milkshake?"  
"Because I blew instead of sucked." She giggled, waving her drinking straw and splashing yellow drops onto the table.  
"What a messy pup you are!"

oOo

Homeward bound.  
The boys tired and dragging their feet. The scooter, now a nuisance, because Jamie was too worn out to scoot and it was too awkward for him to carry.  
Grace held on one hip, the scooter in the other hand, as they made their way home.  
"Boys! Hold hands now, as we cross the road."  
They obeyed without question, waiting for the green man to flash, before setting off again.  
Filthy coats and boots discarded in a heap in the hallway, they ran, calling and chattering into the kitchen.  
"Jamie....be a man and pop up and see if mummy's awake will you? Ask her if she wants anything. If she's asleep, don't disturb her."  
The boy immediately thundered off, up the stairs.  
Malcolm reflected that if his wife had been asleep, she certainly wouldn't be now!  
He was soon back.  
"Mummy says she'd like some soup, and a cup of tea. And she says to tell you she loves you." Robbie and Grace giggled.  
"I'm going to cook supper and make soup and tea.....who's going to help me?" He cried.  
They jumped up and down....  
"Me! Me! Me!"  
In no time he had at all he had all three up at the kitchen counter.  
Robbie with a wooden spoon on soup stirring duties. Jamie with a masher, smashing hell out of the potatoes he'd cooked, and Grace helping him fry mince and onions.  
"We're making shepherds pie......with real shepherds...."  
"Eww! Daddy, that's gross."  
"We first have to catch our shepherd, then chop him up small, and pop him in the pan....."  
The children were shrieking with laughter.  
"Then, when he's nice and brown, we put the mash on top and pop him in the oven."  
More gales of mirth.  
"Jamie, if you're done there, do you think you can take mummy her tea, without spilling it?"  
"Yes Daddy."  
"Gotta be really careful though......go slowly and no running. Oh and tell mummy I love her loads.....okay!"  
Jamie rolled his eyes.  
"Oooooo! Smoochie......smoochie." He giggled, his brother and sister sniggered too.  
Then started chanting....  
"Mummy and Daddy are smoochie smoochie........Mummy and Daddy are smoochie smoochie!"  
"Where does this come from?" Malcolm asked, suppressing his own laughter.  
"It's on Doctor Who." Said Jamie as he retreated along the hallway, tea in hand.  
"Amy says it......it's smoochie smoochie time."  
Bloody television, Malcolm thought. 

Fed, bathed and in bed.  
Story read. Their favourite.....The Gruffalo.  
Laundry sorted.  
Malcolm sat down with a small Scotch on the rocks.  
His reward.  
Sam appeared in her dressing gown.  
Her husband held an arm out for her to crawl under, bringing her close to him.  
"Feeling any better?"  
"Loads thanks. The sleep really did me good."  
"Kids are okay.....they're knackered."  
"You too, I should think!"  
"I'm alright. They were great. They're always great."  
"You're a great Dad. They love spending time with you. They love you to bits."  
Malcolm leaned his head down to rest on the top of Sam's head.  
"I'm such a lucky fucker." He whispered into her hair. 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> As I'm on a roll writing wise at the moment, and have a couple more prompts, I'm writing them as and when I have time. So there will be more to come at some point!!  
> Hope you enjoy!!


End file.
